"Once upon a time, there lived two brothers.
The older was a glorified warrior.
The younger, a meek soldier."

・ ・ ・

For a prince, Storm was too much of a wimp.

At least, that was what he felt about himself.

A prince had to be strong. Brave. Ready to rule.

He was none of that.

He was rather pathetic, actually. Constantly moping, being obedient, doing whatever his parents wanted him to do without any complaint.

And being weak, dumb and cowardly.

Storm felt like a fool.

At least his brother was different from him.

For a seven-year-old child, his brother Xenor was quite intelligent. A prodigy, one might even call him. He was outstanding in all sorts of ways.

His intellect was unbeatable (he scored full marks on a mini IQ test at age four).

His strength was indomitable (he could lift seven kilograms at age five).

Not to mention his ambitious dreams of becoming the king (he would yell, "I'm going to become the king!" about twice a week).

He was the perfect prince.

It was discouraging to see Xenor being showered with praises every single day. Storm felt jealousy at the amount of attention his brother was getting, but also admiration.

His brother was a role model.

Storm wanted to be like him.

However, he didn't want to become as mischievous as Xenor was. Not at all. He was lucky to be a humble boy, rather than the naughty prankster his brother was.

Xenor often liked to use his sharp intellect for the wrong things, after all.

About a year back, his brother happened to uncover a bottle of itching powder in his cabinet. It was just a small thing. Their parents decided to let him keep it. No harm done, right?

How wrong they were.

Xenor somehow managed to slip the itching powder into their father's underwear drawer. He coated all of the garments in there with the substance, and made it look like nothing had been dumped on them.

The next day, Storm had woken up to what sounded like lions rampaging in the Palace and roaring their heads off.

That was, obviously, not the cause of the massive ruckus in the hallways, because they didn't keep lions anywhere in the Palace, nor in Argon, for that matter.

In actual fact, Bayne had been throwing a tantrum, and had been screaming at his mother, Liss, who screamed right back.

Bayne had also been scratching rather madly at his lower regions.

It had been a ridiculously comedic sight, and as much as Storm had tried to look at the matter seriously, he couldn't help but laugh.

The screaming escalated rather quickly into a brief slapping session between his parents.

Both adults eventually retired to their chambers, and Bayne had to wash all of his underwear, after discovering more itching powder on them.

When Storm confronted Xenor later that day, his brother admitted that he had been the one behind the scenes, and couldn't stop laughing for five minutes straight. Storm didn't understand why his brother would do such a thing, until he explained (after calming down from his hysteria, of course).

"You've been so glum lately, so I wanted to make you smile."

His plan sort of worked, actually. But...

Xenor got into trouble after that incident.

It was rather obvious who masterminded the whole incident, since he was the only one who had itching powder.

Not that Xenor actually cared about what their parents said during their lectures on how to behave like a proper prince.

Storm definitely did not want to sit in the King's Office and listen to their parents jabber on about rules, regulations, and standard procedures that needed to be upheld. He wondered how his brother even managed to put up with those lengthy talks every day.

He himself was trying his best.

But try as he might, he still couldn't meet his brother's level in anything.

The only thing which earned him praises was his good nature. Their parents would tell Xenor to be more like him, whenever a prank went out of hand and caused chaos.

Storm felt proud about his personality, but it seemed to him that Xenor didn't care about that either.

It rather frustrated him, considering how he was struggling to catch up to his brother.

Storm sighed, making his way to the bathroom, and encountered said brother on the way. Apparently, he had just finished bathing.

"Going to bathe?" Xenor asked, his green eyes glowing. Was it just his imagination, or did he just see mischief in their depths? Storm nodded, eyeing his brother warily. He caught sight of a stain of white on Xenor's black collar.

His brother followed his gaze, spotted the stain, and nonchalantly brushed it off.

A grin.

"Alright. Enjoy your time!" he said cheerily, and strode off. Then he paused. "And see me later in my room. I have something for you," he added, flashing a smirk.

Storm watched his brother make his way down the hallway, listening quietly as he yelled something about being a king. So it was that time of the week again. He shouldn't have been surprised.

Slowly, he came to the bathroom, and entered.

There was a creak above him, and Storm glanced up.

Only to see a waterfall of white descend onto his face.

Powder coated his entire body and stung his eyes. Some got into his mouth, and he realised that it was flour.

Another one of Xenor's pranks.

So that was the white stain on his brother's collar.

Flour.

Storm stumbled around blindly, trying to get rid of the substance in his eyes. He coughed, then let out a sneeze, and in his daze, stepped on a soap bar on the floor (which had been carefully placed by Xenor once more).

His foot flew out from under him, and he crashed to the ground with an undignified thump.

Groaning, Storm lay there, finally managing to clear his sight of the vile white powder which was used to make cakes.

A sigh.

"Oh, Brother..." he huffed.

Fortunately, nothing else happened while he bathed, and Storm finished up quickly. He put on his bathrobe, and opened the door, only to see his brother running down the hallway, cackling like an insane witch.

Or perhaps a mad scientist. That suited him more.

Storm was puzzled. Why would his brother—?

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard another creak above him, and a bucketful of water was dumped onto him.

The bucket itself fell over his head.

Now he was drenched. Wonderful.

Storm pulled off the bucket, and realised that his father was there, and had approached him. Bayne quirked an eyebrow. "Xenor?" he asked.

"Yes, Father," Storm sighed in response.

"Fret not, my son. Your brother is fearsome, but one day we shall defeat him. Right now, let us try to pull through the traps he has laid together," his father urged, offering him a knowing smile.

Storm managed a small, wry smile back.

His father gave him a towel, and he dried himself up, changing out of his waterlogged robe into a new one.

Honestly, Storm really hated Xenor's pranks. Most of the time, they were infuriating. Other times, like that itching powder incident, they were pure comedy gold. Those pranks made him laugh.

But otherwise, he'd get depressed.

That was not a nice feeling to have, to be depressed.

Not at all.

It made him feel like giving up on everything.

Storm remembered Xenor telling him to go to his room, and headed down the hallways. There was a gnawing feeling in his gut that told him something was going to happen, and it made him cautious.

Knowing Xenor, something was definitely going to happen.

Most likely for the worst.

He arrived in front of his brother's room, and took in a deep breath, before knocking on the door. Xenor's lazy voice called him to come in.

He opened the door, and stepped inside the room.

Instinctively, he glanced up— just in time to see a bucket wobbling above him, water sloshing within. Storm dived out of the way just as it fell, and he was spared from getting soaked once more—

Another bucket fell on his head from the top of the closet, and he was drenched.

Storm stood there, dripping wet, and slowly took the atrocious water container off his head. He stared miserably at Xenor, who was sitting on his bed and howling with laughter.

Three pranks in a row.

The Guardian Spirit must have abandoned him, and sided with his brother instead.

"Oh, Brother..." Storm muttered, heaving a defeated sigh.

Xenor's laughter died down, and he blinked, noticing that Storm was upset.

"Hey, don't look so gloomy!" He smiled, and jumped off his bed. A towel was tossed to Storm. "I didn't mean to make you sad."

"Three times, Brother," Storm huffed, pouting. "Why would I not be sad?"

"Oh, come on," Xenor snickered, and began drying his hair with the towel. Storm let out an indignant cry, and tried to escape from under the piece of cloth. "Those were just for laughs. No big deal!"

"I nearly got blinded by the flour," Storm protested, "and it hurt when I fell because of that soap bar!" His brother continued to rub the towel against his head vigorously. He gave up trying to pull away.

"Well, you didn't really become blind, nor did you break a bone. Besides, they weren't so bad. You should see what I did to Father's office. Now that's bad." Xenor grinned, and finally finished drying up Storm's hair.

As if in response to his statement, a shrill scream of fury that sounded remarkably like Bayne resounded through the air. Storm heard crashing sounds. And were those the squawks of birds in the distance?

"See? Bad," Xenor said smugly.

"What in the name of Argon did you do?" Storm sputtered, feeling utterly bewildered.

"The truth is..." His brother paused dramatically. Storm waited for him to continue. "You don't want to know," Xenor cackled.

A frown.

"Anyway, why did you call me here? Don't tell me that the 'something' you wanted to give me was that bucket of water," Storm sighed, attempting to smoothen down his hair. It was sticking up all over the place, much like a black-white bird nest.

"Of course not! I'm not that cruel," Xenor scoffed, then pulled out a pen from his pocket. Storm recognised it as one of the limited edition, gemstone-topped pens his father kept in his workplace. They had been on display, and he had wanted one when he first saw them.

"I, uh, borrowed it from Father's office. He had extras, after all. You always told me you wanted one of these, though for the life of me, I can't understand why," Xenor sniffed, looking away bashfully as he gave the writing utensil to Storm.

Storm was at a loss of words. Then he hugged his brother, squeezing him tightly. "Thank you, Brother!"

Xenor seemed startled, then hugged back, grinning once more. He ruffled his hair affectionately. "Anything for you, little brother."

Storm grinned back, his blue eyes shining with delight.

Perhaps he could live with the pranks a little longer.